


The Night We Met

by BlackHogwartsWrites (vashtishacklebolt)



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 17:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vashtishacklebolt/pseuds/BlackHogwartsWrites
Summary: One of the most tragic moments in cinematic history took place when the plane went down, then Steve woke up in the fake 40's room, and we realized that Steve and Peggy would never be together, like they OUGHT TO BE CUZ THEY'RE SOULMATES. So here, I gave them what Marvel took away from them. EDIT: *** WRITTEN PRE-ENDGAME! ***





	The Night We Met

I.

"I’m going to put her in the water," he said.

The words came rushing thickly out of her mouth:

"Hang on, Steve, just, please, whatever you do…"

Her fingers trembled as she dialed everyone she could think of.

Finally, Howard’s secretary, Hazel, picked up.

"Put Howard on," said Peggy quickly.

Hazel hemmed and hawed. "He’s busy--"

"PUT THE BLOODY BASTARD ON THE PHONE," said Peggy. "I have an emergency."

There was a pause. Peggy chewed her lip and took a deep shuddering breath. Then the insouciant drawl on the other end:

"How can I be of service Agent Carter?"

II.

They pulled him out of the water after a 36-hour search. Peggy was pacing the office when Howard walked in, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. She approached him, an expectant and exasperated look on her face.

"Canadian coast guard are useless," he said. "My infrared honing system found him buried in the arctic ice, not far from the crash site, barely a scratch on him, though his heart rate was so slow, almost undetectable."

Peggy unconsciously reached for the back of a chair. Howard put his hand on her arm.

"He needs rest now." Peggy nodded, feeling suddenly drained.

"I think I do too," she said.

III.

Peggy entered his hospital room at the end of the secure ward.

Steve was sleeping soundly. He looked altogether healthy, if a bit pale and sweaty. Peggy began to think he could have survived being frozen in the ice for significantly longer.

Peggy sat down in a chair by the bed. Steve showed no sign of awareness of his surroundings. His chest rose and fell with his steady breathing. The machinery monitoring his vitals beeped and hummed briskly.

"You probably think I’m mad," she muttered. "Why speak to you. You’re clearly asleep." She cracked a bitter smile. Played with a loose thread on his sheet.

"I know you must be angry with me," she continued, her voice breaking. "You were trying to be the sacrificial lamb. Well, I know how noble you try to be, Captain, and I won’t stand for such nonsense, I simply won't!"

Steve’s chest rose and fell placidly. Peggy sighed.

"You’re too important for us to lose, Steve," she whispered, her eyes swimming. "You’re too important for me to lose."

"You were trying to do what you had to do, I know that. Well, I did what I had to do, too. Called that bastard, Howard. That bloody, bloody bastard brought you home, and if I had to, I'd do it all again. "

Peggy sobbed and looked away. She squeezed her eyes shut, just as hot tears jumped out. She wiped them away, and stood to go, when something caught her wrist. Looking down, she saw that Steve’s eyes were open. Peggy felt her heart leap.

"I’m glad you did it," he said hoarsely.

IV.

They released him two weeks later. Peggy heard through Jarvis that Howard had set him up in one of his unoccupied pieds a terre. They hadn’t spoken since he’d reached for her in the hospital. She steeled herself for the inevitable loneliness. For there could never be anything between them again. They’d simply seen too much.

Falsworth had met a girl, and he invited Peggy along for a drink at the Palais. Falsworth had spent half the evening nudging Peggy to accept various offers to dance from local eligible men, many of them veterans. Finally his exasperated date succeeded in sweeping Falsworth away onto the floor, leaving Peggy to watch from the side. She was thinking of Steve. Of the Saturday at the Stork Club that never was. Never would be.

An officer in his olive green uniform approached, his head lowered shyly.

"Excuse me," he said. "Are you Peggy Carter?"

Peggy straightened up. The soldier smiled.

"Only, I heard about you and the Howling Commandos. I wanted to say thank you for your service."

"Thank you for yours," she said. "Now are you going to ask me to dance or what?"

The soldier scrambled to attention, presenting his hand. Peggy allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. She surrendered herself to her partner, letting him twirl her, dip her, lead her in the popular steps. She danced mechanically, counting in her head in time to the music, trying to let go of all other thoughts.

Then, the hand she grasped was no longer thin, moist and cool. It was bigger and warmer. She looked up. Steve’s blue eyes caught the light and twinkled as his lips lifted in a smile. He stood tall in his uniform, though it was curiously unadorned. Peggy thought there were some medals she was sure he’d been awarded, which he had suspiciously 'forgot at home.'

He pulled her to him just as the song slowed to a waltzy sway. "I owed my best girl a dance," he said huskily into her ear. Peggy, who had forgotten how to move her face since he’d appeared, felt herself smile.

V.

They walked rather slowly through the damp streets of London's West End, lit moodily by streetlamps.

"Are you feeling better," she asked.

"Fine and dandy," he said breezily.

Peggy hesitated. She wondered if she ought to tell him. About the hysteria that gripped her as he flew his plane into Arctic waters, about the anger, the mixed sorrow and relief of hearing of his recovery, feeling that from then on, everything would be different. The war had changed too much.

But Steve offered his bent elbow and Peggy fought the impulse to smile again. She lost the fight as she slipped her hand under his arm. She listened to the sound of their footsteps for a while. She was afraid to talk. Afraid she’d tell him something he’d rather not hear. He seemed content to look out at London, a city now at peace, if scarred terribly by the war.

They were closing in on Peggy’s flat in Park Row. She cleared her throat.

"Steve, it’s been a beautiful night," she began. She heard Steve sigh.

"I’m sure you’d like to go home and rest," she said, somewhat flatly.

Steve stopped walking and turned to her suddenly, grasping one arm and reaching for her waist, causing her heart to quicken.

"I’ve had enough rest," he said quietly. Peggy thought her body had suddenly become several degrees warmer. Steve tipped his nose toward Peggy’s ear. Her eyelids fluttered briefly before she opened them to look straight into his face, and asked him, softly:

"Would you like a cup of tea?"


End file.
